


you're far out to sea and my rope won't reach

by lizimajig



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 15:39:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3493727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizimajig/pseuds/lizimajig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz and Skye don't so much have a conversation as they wish they could.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're far out to sea and my rope won't reach

**Author's Note:**

> A missing scene, meant to take place between 2x03 and 2x04. I just have a lot of Fitzskye feelings right now.

Skye couldn't say exactly when the hanging out in her bunk started. She knew it was sometimes after Simmons left, but beyond that it was very ephemeral. One night she'd been alone, conducting some research on the alien writing, and the next, Fitz had been there with her, reading on his tablet, mouth moving silently with each word as he squeezed his handy dandy rubber occupational therapy ball with his bad hand.

It was nice. Company without expectation was just what she needed and, she supposed, what he needed, too. For a long time there was nothing but "good nights" exchanged when he left for his own bunk, and eventually small talk came. His words still came in fits and starts, but he didn't become nearly as keyed up as he did when they were in front of Coulson, May, and a cadre of lab techs. 

Her heart was still racing on her way back to her bunk, slowing down, but picked up every time she remembered Ward's words. _Your father is alive. He's looking for you. And some day, if you let me, I'll take you to him._

They were just words, and for all she knew they were lies as well. But why did they set every nerve in her body on fire? It was a conversation she shouldn't have been having.

As soon as the door to her bunk closed behind her, she collapsed against it, knees turned to water. _Stupid,_ she cursed herself, head falling back against the door. Her throat closed up and she took in a shaky breath. "Stupid," she whispered out loud, deliberately hitting her head against the door now. " _Stupid --_ "

"Skye?"

"Jesus!" She was suddenly and entirely on high alert all over again. Fitz was on the bed, legs crossed. "God! Stalk much?" 

"You said I could -- if..." He motioned.

"Yeah. I did. I know." She had said if he wanted to hole up somewhere, her bunk was open to him. "Kind of wish you'd let me know, you scared the shit out of me."

"Yeah, well. Long day."

One look at his face and she knew he'd gotten the same news that she had -- on top of the Ward thing. "You can say that again," she said, turning on the lamp Fitz had neglected in favor of his tablet and dropped down next to him. "Turn on the light next time. Reading a bright screen in the dark is bad for your eyesight."

"Thanks, mum," he said, fatally dry. 

Skye gently punched him on the shoulder, and glanced over at what was on the tablet. It was the article from the cadet newspaper about him and Simmons saving Donnie Gill during their visit back to the Academy. Her chest ached to look at even a photo of their friend. Fitz was tense and must have been feeling the same, but he resolutely closed the window and shut off the tablet. "Did everyone know?" he asked her finally.

"Know?" He gave her a look back that begged her not to make him say it, and just understand. "About our troll in the dungeon?"

"Yeah. Him."

She sighed. "Yeah." Silence. "For the record, I wasn't crazy about the idea either," she said. "I was ready to bury him alive in the desert somewhere."

"He'd probably sur -- survive that, too," Fitz said, and Skye reflected that he was not wrong. "I guess if he's here at least we... we can um..." The silence stretched out longer and longer as the words he reached for eluded his grasp. "Keep... look... look -- watch -- and we know where..."

"Where he is?" she completed for him.

"Yeah." He let out his breath, and she covered his hand with hers. 

She didn't say anything, letting her part in that secret weigh on her. She deserved that guilt, as much as anyone else. "I didn't mean to keep a secret, Fitz," she said, "and we didn't do it because we didn't trust you. No one wanted you to have to think about him."

"No. Of course not," he said in such a sharp tone Skye didn't answer. She didn't know what that tone said but it cut -- and rightly so. "I did -- I went in there, I... I..." God, and he was _upset_ over what he'd done. "I could have killed him and I'm not sorry. Isn't that _awful?_ "

Skye could honestly say that for once she had no idea what to say to him. "Well. If it helps I don't think there's a jury in the world that would convict you, and I don't think we have any personnel to spare for a court martial." 

His laugh was short and humorless. She didn't say anything, just held his hand. His bad hand clenched and unclenched, like he was trying to be rid of a cramp, or resisting the urge to punch something.

But she didn't say anything.

"I guess Simmons isn't with her parents, either," she finally said, trying to think of anything but Ward and his gentle words.

"Definitely not." It was just two words, but she could hear the monumental effort that went into them, pushing them out, and how weighted they were to immediately tumble down between them, expanding the space there. Sure, he was right there, hand in hers, but he may as well have been in the lab, alone, or miles away. 

_I know you miss her. I miss her too._ True, but not at the same time. _You were in love with her._ Maybe he still was. Who could tell? Since Jemma had left getting him to string a sentence together was a challenge, and that it had little to nothing to do with the aphasia. But every time she tried, no matter what she did, it didn't work. He drifted further away, and she didn't know how to reach him. She looked over at him and just felt a pain, glancing at him now. _Tell me what you're thinking. Let me help._

He looked up briefly, met her eyes, and the wall went back up. "Stalk much?" he echoed her earlier words, and she laughed a little, before throwing an arm around him in what could loosely been termed a hug.

Fitz went stiff as a poker, but he didn't pull away. "Um." She didn't let go. "Skye?"

"I know. Touching." It was all she could think of to do for him. He put a hand to her back -- as good as a response as anyone had received. She let go. "Sorry."

His look back at her was guarded, with a tight smile, as though that would distract how every nerve in his body was live, putting him on edge. "No... problem," he completed. Another moment longer, and he broke the eye contact. "I should go... um. I'm just..." His hand motioned, like he could catch the word as it floated in midair. "I'm."

"Me too." Even if he was searching for a word, Skye wasn't sure there was one for exactly how bone-deep exhausted and heartsick she was. "Try and sleep, Fitz."

"I have a mum, you know," he informed her, pushing himself off the bed and going for the door.

"Then you should e-mail her," Skye said pointedly.

The look he gave her over his shoulder was so annoyed it was almost like old days, and she smiled sweetly in response. "Night," he said, letting himself out.

The door slid closed again, and she fell back on the bed. Her eyes closed, and even though she was still fully clothed and the lamp was on, she felt herself slipping down the slope towards sleepy oblivion. Maybe it would be better there, at least for a time.


End file.
